A Northern Wind
by residentialdaydreamer
Summary: If there was one thing Princess Emma was very good at, it was running away from her parent's kingdom. The royal life had never been the one for her, especially when the winds had other plans. It's been six years, and now Emma and her young son, Henry, find themselves in the one situation they can't run away from. AU. Captain Swan/Cobra.
1. Stowaways

_**A Northern Wind - Chapter One: Stowaway**_

**Summary: **If there was one thing Princess Emma was very good at, it was running away from her parent's kingdom. The royal life had never been the one for her, especially when the winds had other plans. It's been six years, and now Emma and her young son, Henry, find themselves in the one situation they can't run away from. AU.

"Henry," Princess Emma, or rather, Emma Swan, as she went by since leaving the kingdom, shook her three-year-old son awake. "Henry, baby, come on, it's time to wake up now." The young boy moaned, but sat up nonetheless, rubbing his chubby fists across his eyes.

It wasn't quite morning- the sky still a milky twilight with just a hint of pink- but the wind blowing through the small window in the even smaller room beckoned to Emma. The breeze drifted in with force, probably bringing with it a storm. But for now, it tousled her long blonde hair, taunting her to hit the road.

"Mommy," Henry whined, reaching his small arms up to his mother. Emma paused in her mad dash to make sure all her and Henry's belongings had been thrown into their lone bag, and picked her boy up. He immediately buried his face into her neck and sighed, "Don't want to go."

Emma rubbed his back soothingly and winced. "I know, baby. But I promise, the next town we go to will be just as fantastic as this one." She set the boy down so that he was standing on their shared twin bed and smiled weakly. "What does mommy always say? Where are we going?"

The boy perked up a bit as Emma fastened his red riding cloak around his neck, "Wherever the wind goes!"

"That's right, kid." Emma smiled and kissed his forehead.

Taking Henry's hand in one of her own and the duffel bag in the other, Emma extinguished the lantern before quietly making her way down the stairs of the tavern's upper room. Such was the custom whenever they arrived in a new town. She would walk into a public place- a tavern, a market, the town square- and ask around about a place to stay. After a week or so, when the landlord would come to demand the rent, she would smile sweetly and make up the excuse that she was having trouble finding work. Sometimes she would even pull the Henry card- surely they wouldn't throw and innocent child to the gutters? Then, after that storm blew over, her and Henry would leave without a trace in the middle of the night.

"Come on Henry, hop on up," Emma whispered, hoisting him up on the one thing she had stolen from her parents. The beautiful white steed, Maximillian, had been her childhood horse; she had trained him alongside her father and spent countless hours with the large animal. So, when the time to make her getaway came, it only seemed logical to take the beloved beast along for the ride. Plus, he came in handy when the need for a speedy getaway arose.

Like now.

"Hey!" The bartender shouted sharply, stepping out onto the front porch of the old pub.

"_Shit_," Emma cursed under her breath and swung herself up onto the horse's back. Grabbing the reins and locking her arms around Henry, she kicked it into high gear.

"Get back here!" The portly man cried, untying his white apron from around his back and beginning to run down the steps. "Thief!"

Emma laughed in spite of herself. _Well you're not wrong, buddy._

With the wind in her face and Henry's small, warm body against her front, Emma gave her steed an extra kick, vaguely wondering where the breeze would take them next.

* * *

Captain Hook stood at the helm of the _Jolly Roger_ and breathed deep as a gust off the sea blew across his face. It was days like this he wished he was on the waves instead of suck in port. His crew always seemed to run out of food just as the stars aligned for the perfect sailing conditions. So, instead of terrorizing the seven seas like a good _pirate_, he stood at the helm and monitored his crew as they docked the large ship, like a good _captain_.

It was one thing Liam had taught him by example when he had still been alive; being a good captain meant always keeping the needs of your crew in check. A happy crew meant a well-run ship. And even now, as the fearsome Captain Hook and not as Killian Jones, he couldn't help but hold the principle dear.

"Do you smell that, Mister Smee?" Hook asked his first mate, taking another deep breath.

"Well, yes, Captain, but the men have promised to bathe while we're in port," Smee said, nervously wringing his hands.

Hook grimaced, "No, you fool. The ocean! She's calling me name!" He strode to the edge of the ship and gazed out over the lapping waves, the sea reflecting in his blue eyes, bright with excitement.

"Feel the wind, Mister Smee. She wants- nay, she _needs_ me!"

"'M sorry, Captain. Maybe you could call the men in early and be back out by tonight?"

"Yes, but what kind of captain would I be if I did that?"

"Why, a great captain, Captain! You're the best captain this crew has seen! Save for your brother, 'course, may he rest in peace," Smee quickly amended.

Hook laughed, a low chuckle reverberating in his chest. "Arse-kissing does not suit you, Mister Smee." He grabbed Smee's fluffy red cap as he passed and laughed again

The wind changed suddenly and picked up Hook's coat with such ferocity that he was sure if it hadn't been secure around his shoulders, it would have been lost forever. The clouds rolled in over the small town small town they had pulled in to port and with them, the air turned cold and bitter. Hook shivered involuntarily against the harsh wind that had been so welcoming just minutes ago.

If the sky was anything to go by (and, being a sailor from birth, the sky was _everything_ to go by), a storm was coming in, and fast. Where clear cloudless skies had watched over him all afternoon, now dark, threatening greys advanced angrily.

Captain Hook smirked, a smug tint running across his features. The sea was furious for his wasting of a perfect wind. And now, his winds were about to change.

* * *

"Where are we, mother?" Henry asked, blinking sleepily.

"We're stopping for the night. Mommy's tired," Emma sighed. She glanced around for a place, any place, to rest their head, but found nothing. What kind of port town didn't have a tavern open all night?

"Look, mommy, a boat!" Henry cried happily. It wasn't exactly the biggest ship in the harbour- the boats owned by the Royal Navy at least doubled it in size- but it certainly wasn't the smallest either. Its dark wooden hull and masts towered over them as Henry's gazed remained transfixed.

"That's a ship," Emma corrected absentmindedly. Her eyes drifted over to the Royal Navy's ship. The flag of her parent's kingdom snapped in the harsh wind and she pulled up the hood of her cloak. Surely, they would recognize her, given the chance.

"Can we go on the ship, mother?" Her son's wide hazel eyes, a mirror of his father's, stared up at her. Emma slid off the horse and pulled Henry onto her hip. They creeped quietly down the cobblestone path along the harbour, only the horse's hooves giving their location away.

"Not tonight," Emma whispered.

"Hey, you! Where do you think you're going?" A voice shouted behind them. Emma turned sharply. Only twenty or so feet behind them stood a guard in a royal blue uniform. _Twice in one night?_

Gripping Henry securely to her front, Emma took off running. The guard pounded behind them with his saber drawn, still shouting at them to stop. Frightened by all the sudden movement, the horse took off in a completely other direction.

_This day just keeps getting better,_ Emma thought sourly as she turned corner after corner, desperately trying to lose the guard. Between Henry's added weight and the steady pace she tried to keep, Emma was dangerously running out of breath. Quickly ducking behind a shaded alley, she gulped down air.

"Mother, I'm scared," Henry whined. She shushed him harshly and peered around the building. The guard seemed to have gotten lost, or at least given up. Maybe he decided they just weren't worth his time.

The wind picked up again, banging the ropes and chains against the masts of the _Jolly_. Emma glanced up at the sounds.

"Looks like we're going on the ship after all, kid."

* * *

The storm had the entire crew of the _Jolly Roger_ holed up for the night. Not that they were complaining much- nights on the _Jolly_ meant lots of music and even more drinking. All in all, a good time was had by the entire crew. All except the Captain.

Instead of partying with his men, Hook found himself wandering the brig, drinking rum and whistling a soft tune. Somewhere just under his feet, a light tapping like footsteps on the wood sounded. He paused to listen for the sound again. It was there once more, followed by muffled shuffling of voices.

"What in the gods name?" He mumbled and threw open the hatch that led to the very bottom carrige of th ship.

Instantly, he was met with the prettiest grey-green eyes and blonde hair combination he had seen in all the realms. A smaller set of hazel eyes gazed up at him as well.

Hook smirked mischievously and advanced towards the pair who stood frozen in the dark hull, too afraid to move. This was it. This was the end. They had been caught, by a _pirate_ nonetheless. "Well hello, hello. Looks like we have ourselves a couple of stowaways."

_**So, that's that. This is my first ever Once Upon A Time story, so please be gentle. I don't know if I'm going to continue this. I have so many great ideas for where I want it to go, but who knows- it all depends on how much response this gets. Thanks for reading! **_


	2. Captain's Honour

**Alrighty, here we go! Chapter two! Thank you all so so so very much for all the positive feedback and reviews. It really means a lot to me and I hope you all like this one just as much. It's a bit longer and kind of... uhm... slow, so sorry 'bout that, but it will pick up in the next chapter and so on, I promise! Can you all help me with something, though? Is my writing style too dry? Like, do I need to add more detail, explanation, and whatnot? I just feel so inadequate compared to some of my favourite authors on this site, but hey what can ya do. Prayers and good vibes would be appreciated this week- finals week augh! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!**

* * *

She knew they were in trouble this time- _big_ trouble. She had been in plenty of close scrapes before, mostly in the days before Henry's birth. Back then, she knew her way out of a jail cell like the back of her hand. She could be thrown in a cell one night, pick the lock, and be out before the guard even stopped snoring from his little snooze when he believed she had fallen asleep as well. Hell, she could probably still do it, if need be. But since then, she had been more than careful in their getaways. Except now, apparently.

The captain strode in front of her, pacing back and forth, back and forth with is hand clasped around his hook behind his back. He had seated them against some empty wooden crates- after all, they were already in the brig- and, though he tried hard not to, he couldn't help but notice the way her hair shone in the moonlight that creeped in from the single window up high in the hull. The storm must have cleared some time ago, leaving the full moon and the stars to dance in the darkening summer night. Hook peered down at her through his peripherals. There was no doubt he was intrigued by the newcomer and her young boy. The last time his ship had seen the likes of a woman's touch had been from his love, Milah, and the crew knew better than to mess with her. She was tough and strong-willed; the perfect companion to a pirate like Hook. But she was gone and though he swore vengeance on the crocodile that took her life, Hook did not enjoy dwelling on things past.

"Are you going to say something or are you going to stand there pacing all night?" Emma scowled, pulling Henry closer to her chest. The toddler hadn't stopped staring up at the captain in awe since the moment they had been discovered.

Hook chuckled, though there was little humor in it, "Do you have any idea what happens to stowaways on a pirate ship, Miss..." He trailed off, waiting for her response.

Emma fixed him with a glare before answering. "Swan. Emma Swan."

"Swan," Hook breathed, repeating the name for himself. It didn't go unnoticed by either of them the way the word effortlessly slid from his lips, as if that were its rightful place in the universe. He cleared his throat, "Right. Well, Miss Swan?"

Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She knew about pirate tales- someone always had a story to tell over a pint or around the mills. She had even heard of the very Captain Hook standing before her from time to time. Unfortunately for her, though, not a single one of those stories ended in happily ever after.

"Please, Captain, just let us go. We were hiding from some Royal Guards, we never meant to stay. We'll leave without a trace, I promise. Your men won't even have to know we were here. Please, just-"

"You think I'm afraid of my crew?" Hook snapped suddenly. His harsh tone made Henry jump and curl even closer under his mother's arm.

Emma was instantly caught off guard, "Well, no, it's just that they might think-"

"Oh, so now you believe I care what my men think, hmm? Well, what will they think Miss Swan? Because from where I'm standing, they will expect me to do my duty as captain and kill you where you stand." His words came out in a growl, reverberating low in his throat. He inched ever so closer to her so that they were fact to face and she could just make out the slight glint in his eyes. Emma gasped and her eyes narrowed in anger. _The bastard, he's _enjoying_ this._ "And why shouldn't I?"

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself against his inquisition. There was no way she would let him break her, not in front of Henry. Before she could answer any of his questions, he hit her with another one.

"Why?"

"Wh-why?" Emma stuttered, cursing her failure at remaining strong. "Why what?"

Hook smirked, "Why were you hiding from the Royal Guard?"

"Oh," Emma cringed inwardly. She couldn't very well tell him the truth, that she was a runaway princess with a child who would likely one day sit on the throne ruling this very kingdom. The reward for her return was already hefty enough. There were wanted posters hanging from practically every tree and post in her parent's land. Thankfully, none of them had an accurate drawing of her, likely to be from her sudden getaway. She could only imagine what her father would do if Hook actually brought her back. Hell, King David would probably grant the man a kingdom of his own, pirate or not.

"I just have something they want."

This got Hook's attention easily. No stranger to thievery himself, the fact that the girl possessed something the King and Queen wanted undoubtedly piqued his curiosity. After all, where there was stolen property, there was generally a reward. "Oh really? And just what might that be, love?"

He swaggered lazily towards her, a devilish but charming smile beginning to turn up at the corners of his mouth. There was no way she would be able to defend herself against him, especially if he recruited a few of his men to completely outnumber and overpower her. Maybe his little stowaways would pay off after all.

Emma cringed again, visibly this time, against the way his eyes bore into her. Not altogether uncomfortable, Emma struggled to scramble up a lie in her already muddled brain.

"Better to tell me than to have me force it from you," his hand went to his sword at his hip as he whispered right in her ear, "trust me."

"Jewelry," Emma ground out, only half-lying to the man before her. Technically, she had taken jewelry out of the castle, but you can't steal what's yours to begin with.

Hook backed up suddenly and pulled his sword from its sheath, the metal making a sharp hiss in the otherwise silence of the ship. Henry screamed and Emma's breath completely escaped from her chest as Hook brought the sword to her throat.

"Hand it over," he drawled.

Emma's heart was pounding in her chest, in her head, in her ears so loud she almost didn't hear what he was saying. She could feel wetness growing on her ratted tunic from where Henry had started wiping his tears. Her poor boy- he had been so brave his whole life through every one of their moves. It only took something truly dangerous to brake him like this. She almost wanted to join in with him.

"Why you doing this?" Henry's small voice reached up to Hook, one half of his face covered in his mother's shoulder. His big brown eyes were red and watery from crying but his voice rang clear.

Hook was instantly taken aback. Truthfully, he had forgotten the child was there at all. He smirked, "Surely you know about pirates, lad?"

Henry hesitated but still nodded.

"Look around you, then. You and your mum happened to stowaway on my pirate ship. Threatening and thievery kind of come with the title, don't you think?"

Henry shook his head, "You can be a nice pirate."

"Oh, now where's the fun in that?"

"It's plenty fun. People like nice people," Emma chuckled at her son's innocent logic. Henry turned to face Hook head-on, his little face scrunching up in frustration.

"You'll see one day, lad. The good guys don't always win." Hook grimaced but dropped his hand so the sword no longer threatened to slit Emma's throat. She let out a breath she hadn't known she had been holding and loosened her grip on the toddler only slightly.

"Yes they do!" Henry blurted out, crossing his arms.

"_Henry!_" Emma immediately scolded. They were just about in the clear- the last thing she needed was to have to die because her three-year-old argued with a pirate.

But to her surprise, the man laughed. It was a genuine laugh, none of the sarcasm or snark he had been lacing in his voice since he caught them.

"Well, aren't you a little spitfire?" Hook grinned at Emma and if she hadn't been so bloody terrified and confused, she probably would have almost found it attractive. Almost.

Hook realized what was happening and quickly sobered up. He was supposed to be threatening the poor girl's life, not joking with her. "Right. Well. There is still the matter at hand, pun _not_ intended." He sheathed his sword and tilted his chin towards her, "The jewelry please, love. Then you are free to go, Captain's honour."

The words flew out of her mouth before she could even think about stopping them, "What if we make a deal? A- a negotiation, of sorts?"

Hook quirked an eyebrow, "You have my attention, love. Go on."

Emma took a deep breath before she continued on. She had absolutely no clue where this idea was coming from. She had conjured up plenty of stupid, reckless, just plain _careless_ situations before, but this... this took the cake. "I can work and Henry won't get in the way, he's a good kid. Please, we desperately need a place to stay."

Hook shook his head. He could not possibly believe what this... this... _girl_ was suggesting. Who did she think she was, just waltzing onto his ship and demanding to stay aboard? He should have her head! But still, there was that little part of him, right in the back of his mind, that nagged at him, urging him to at least give her a chance. Curse his bloody softer side.

"What about battles, hmm lass? Can you fight?"

Emma rolled a shoulder, "I can hold my own."

Hook unsheathed his sword for the second time that night. He held it out to her, hilt first, and nodded in her direction.

_No way. No way in Hell._ Emma groaned to herself, but managed to somehow keep the shock off her face. She had never even held a sword in her life- such things weren't proper for a princess. Her father had been a knight back in his day, but he had never bothered to pass the skill to his daughter. A son, sure. But not his princess. Still, she took the sword, feeling its weight in her palm. Hook pulled a smaller dagger from his leather boot and smirked at her.

"Let's see then."

Immediately, he lunged for her, dagger drawn and aiming straight for her abdomen. She flitted out of the way easily, shoving Henry to the wall of the ship. He called out for his mother, fear in his high voice, but his cried were lost at the sound of metal upon metal escalating between them all.

Emma raised the sword, trying to at least appear like she knew what she was doing. She had seen her father sword fight a few times, but nowheres near enough to win one on her own. Especially not against Captain bloody Hook. His dagger sliced past her, nicking her tunic but barely missing her side.

"Sorry, love, just trying to get you out of your clothes a bit sooner," Hook winked. Somehow, that fueled her rage. She raised the sword above her head and brought it swinging down towards him without much aim. He caught it easily with his hook, the metal clashing and sending up a small shower of sparks. The sword flew out of her grip with the momentum and suddenly she was face-to-face with the captain, dagger pressed against her throat. He had his hooked hand around her back, its point pressed into the space between her shoulder blades. She was close enough that she could catch his scent- a sweet mix of spice and leather and alcohol.

"Are you sure about that, Swan?" His warm breath ghosted across her face, his voice barely above a whisper.

Not for the first time that night, Emma panicked. Her hand twitched for the sword, but it had landed too far from her reach. Her eyes narrowed. There was no way she was going to let him best her.

"Definitely sure." In one swift motion, she brought her knee up high into his abdomen and ripped the dagger from his hand. Hook let out an audible 'oof' and doubled over to catch his breath while Emma used the opportunity to knock him to the floor with a sharp kick to his flank. She climbed on top of his back, yanked on his hair, and held the knife to _his_ throat for a pleasant change.

By the end, they were both gasping for breath and Henry had taken to hiding behind the empty creates.

"If you wanted to be on top," Hook gasped, "all you had to do was ask."

With a roll of her eyes, Emma slid the knife across the floor, out of either of their reach, and clambered to her feet. Hook took a little more time to do the same, cursing under his breath the whole way.

"Well I stand corrected. Well done Swan," He bowed slightly to her but winced at the bruises he was sure were forming from her kicks.

"So?" She gasped.

Hook nodded and grinned, "Hand over your part of the bargain and I'll keep up with mine."

Emma sighed and reached into the lone bag she had stowed their belongings in. Truthfully, she _had_ stolen the jewelry from the castle as it wasn't exactly hers to begin with. It would be one day, upon on her coronation, but for now it was still her mother's possession. She had grabbed it at the very last minute thinking it would be extremely useful to pawn or sell should she run into a scrap financially. She had been tempted to sell it many a times, but there was always that nagging feeling she would need it more sometime later.

Clutching the silver tightly with both hands, she clenched her eyes shut and held it out to the captain. He let out a low whistle but took it nonetheless.

"So this is why you're hiding from the Royals?" He chuckled softly, eyes glimmering like a child given free range of the sweets in a shop. The jewelry- or, more accurately, the tiara- sent flecks of light around the hull as it practically sparkled in the moonlight. Honestly the tiara was beautiful, clad in diamonds and rubies and sapphires to make it worth fifty times its weight. It would be worth thousands upon thousands pieces of silver if returned to the kingdom. If. Hook's expression changed suddenly as the pieces clicked in his head. He had heard passing mention of a lost princess some time ago in a pub around a tall glass of something strong, though he only paid attention briefly before turning back to his stein. That had to have been five or six years ago, though. If the girl had run away to hide an unwanted pregnancy from her parents, the child surely would have to be older, wouldn't he? Hook decided to file the information away for now, but he vowed to definitely pay more attention this time around.

Emma nodded but brushed off the comment without answering. "So? Can we stay?"

Hook tilted his head towards her and laughed again, "Aye, you may. I will show you to the crew's quarters and you can begin work with them in the morning." He turned on his heel, stowing the tiara in the inner folds of his coat.

"Captain, wait." Emma called. She waited for him to turn back around before continuing, "Would you really have killed me? Er... either time tonight?"

Hook smiled softly, genuinely, but shook his head. "Of course not, lass. What kind of form would that be?"


	3. North Course

**You guys... this chapter has been nothing but hell for me the past few weeks. I'm so sorry, it's mostly just filler stuff until the action happens. I decided to invoke the Hemingway rule of "write drunk, edit sober" for this one, so it might be a little, ahem, messy. Thank you again to all who reviewed and all my new followers/favourites! I love you all so very much- you have no idea how much those little things make my day! Enjoy!**

* * *

A week into their arrangement, Emma lay awake in her hammock, staring up at the wooden beams in the ceiling. Henry had passed out some time ago and his warm little body curled against her side, his fist clenching and unclenching her shirt in the fits of a dram. Still, she couldn't seem to fall into sleep's sweet embrace. The past week, the gentle rocking of the ship against the blackened sea had worked as a lullaby to have both her and Henry asleep before many of the men had made their way back from the kitchen one deck below, most of them still drunkenly bellowing the drinking songs that wafted up the stairs to where Emma was trying to sleep.

Tonight, though, she couldn't manage to shut her thoughts down long enough to fall asleep. Like many nights before, they kept drifting back to her parents and her old life. Sometimes, she felt guilty for leaving like she did. Emma had been the only child of Snow White and Prince Charming- definitely a lot of to live up to. They were a couple bound and wed by true love. Hell, her father had even saved her mother's life with true love's kiss. If that wasn't an crazy expectation to live up to, Emma didn't know what was. What if she never found true love? Or, what if she did, but her parents had some sixth sense and felt like he wasn't right for her? Or just didn't approve of him in general?

Gods, they probably hated her by now. She didn't even leave a note- just wanted wandered out of the castle in the middle of the night on horseback. _No,_ she thought. _They are _incapable_ of hatred._

Emma rolled onto her side and Henry repositioned himself so he clung to her back like a pup to his mother. She hated nights like this. When her mind just wouldn't shut up. She knew on the only thing that would help was sleep, but that was the exact problem. _It's a vicious cycle._

"Hey" a voice half-whispered from beside her. She glanced down to see if Henry had woken, but he lay still sleeping, a small stream of drool escaping his open mouth and dripping onto her shirt. Confused, Emma glanced around. "Hey, Swan."

Her head rolled lazily to the side and she was met with a big brown pair of eyes of one of the other sailors staring up at her from his bunk. From the moonlight pouring in front he portholes, she could tell that he was shirtless, but his bottom half was covered by a thin woolen blanket. Emma almost envied him. Between the stagnate air, the thirty or so men crammed into the itty bitty living space, and the three year old's body heat radiating onto her, Emma's shirt was soaked through with sweat.

The man who had spoken before extended his hand. "Name's August." Emma shook his hand, calloused from years of working the ropes and sea-salted wood, but still young and strong. Her father had thought taught her some years ago that you could always tell a man's character by his hands. Rough hands, like Charming's, meant he was a hard worker, someone who cared about what he did and the people around him. But soft, feminine hands were the hands of a spoiled man who wasn't good for much.

"So, how are you enjoying the pirate life?"

Emma shrugged. "It's alright. A bit lonely so far, but what can you do?"

This was the truth. The crew had kept their distance from her, but she could still hear parts of their conversations in passing, little snippets like "bad luck" and "Captan's whore". The ones who didn't leave her alone, though, were the only real trouble. They would grab at her or whisper inappropriate things as she worked and they wandered around the ship. Still, though, she wasn't all _that_ scared. Emma knew she could hold her own, if need be.

"Yeah, they're not the friendliest but they're the best rag-tag group of sailors on the sea, that's for sure." August rolled over, placing his hands behind his head.

"So what brings you to our humble abode, Swan?" She could see his eyes close, but she knew he would be awake just as long as she was. Insomniacs stick together, and all that. "Rumor says you and your boy are stowaways."

August was always the creative one of any group he was in. Never one to pass up a good story, he would talk for anyone that would listen around the campfire, telling tales of days past or even days' future. Most of the time, his tales were truly made up off the top of his head and usually we when he had had a few too many drinks. Every once in a while, though, he would catch some interesting story from a fellow sailor or overheard at a pub and would spin it into the something as wonderful, adventurous as the most wonderful, adventurous tale possible. He always claimed he would be a famous novelist one day, but most people wrote him off. Emma decided to indulge his curiosity.

"Just looking for a new opportunity, I suppose." She smiled, "I've never been able to turn down an adventure."

August smiled in return, "Me too. Where were you before this?"

Emma froze, her foot coming down to stop the slow swing of the hammock. She hated that question. Why were people so interested in where you came from? Shouldn't it matter more where you're going?

"If you don't mind me asking, that is," August added, sensing her hesitation.

Emma sighed, but she decided to brush off the question for now. "Oh just about everywhere. Does it matter? The past is in the past- not like you can change it."

August peeked open one eye in surprise. "Isn't that the truth..." he trailed off. "You know what Swan? I like you. You and me, we're going to be good friends."

Emma barked out a laugh in surprise. She glanced up when she saw one of the other sailors turn over or shudder in their sleep from her sudden outburst. The last thing she wanted was one of the crew berating her for waking them up. "Oh really?" She asked, turning towards August.

He smiled softly as well "Really. Goodnight, Emma."

The blonde grinned to herself. One week in and she already made a friend. Maybe fighting for her life hadn't been a mistake after all.

* * *

The following morning, Emma started about the routine that had been ingrained in her brain the past f week. Each morning, she would get up, being careful not to disturb Henry, and relieve the night crew of their duties. Then, around mid-morning, she would wake Henry up, get both of them breakfast, and set him up to play while she finished her afternoon chores.

"There you are, Swan," the deep voice made her jump as it approached from behind her. She had been casually leaning against the deck railing, feeling the wind on her hair and face, when the Captain himself strode up behind her.

"Hiding from your duties, I see," Hook smirked. Truthfully, he couldn't be mad at his newest crew member. He just wan liked the way she squirmed when caught.

"Of course not, Captain," Emma sighed, her moment of bliss over as quickly as it had come. "What can I do for you?"

Hook thrust a mop and bucket into her suspecting hands. The blonde glared down at the bucket of dirty water and then back up at the pirate.

"If you're going to stay on my ship, love, you're going to work." Hook smirked. Yeah, okay. He was just looking for a simple excuse to talk to her again. The silly little maiden had been on his mind for a week now with absolutely no rest. he didn't even know when his mind stopped thinking about her at night and started thinking about her in the morning. He constantly cursed himself for his betrayal of Milah so soon after her death. Of course it had been almost thirty years now.. But Swan. Goddamn Swan. She had him so enraptured that she was the sun and he was just a mere planet in her orbit. Stupid girl.

Hook shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. Well. Just for a moment. He crouched down to where the toddler was playing with some twigs at his mother's feet.

"Hey, lad. How's about you help me steer this old ship while your mum sets to work?"

Henry's face lit up like the Christmas morning she knew he would never have. He hopped up onto his short, stocky baby legs, practically bouncing up and down with anticipation.

"Really? Can I?!"

Hook smiled, one of those genuine smiles Emma suspected not many people saw. "That is, if it's alright with your mum of course."

Emma tried to ignore the pleading, begging, wide-eyed look from her son, she really did. But the kid knew just how to tug at her heartstrings. She would do anything to make the kid happy. He was the light of her life, one of the only things that kept her going from day to day. Hey may have been the product of some bad decisions, but in no way was that child a mistake. Not to her. Which is why she was so hesitant to let him go.

Aside from the fact that he was a bloody pirate. Why the hell should she even begin to trust him? For all she knew, he would take Henry and ship him off the plank or sell him to the next trader they came across. But still, something within her, some little part in the back of her mind, wanted to trust him. She was no stranger to the way men stared at her, but something in Hook's clear blue eyes was different. The pure, unadulterated lust wasn't there. Of course, there was attraction. But she had a feeling he was truly looking at her not at her body.

"Well..." Emma sighed. Dammit. "Fine."

Henry let out a "whoop" of excitement and tore off towards the bow of the ship, nearly knocking over some of the crew in his wake.

Hook chuckled, "Thank you, Emma. I'll leave you to it, then."

"But stay on this level!" She shouted as a last resort, knowing full and well they wouldn't hear her.

* * *

"What does this do?" Henry asked, gently touching one of the levers next to the steering wheel, nearly twice the size of the toddler himself. He had been asking Hook the same question for almost an hour now, though honestly the captain didn't mind all too much. He was a sucker for children- always had been, though you would never catch him admitting to it.

"That, my lad, makes the ship go right or left. It controls the rudders down below, on the bottom of the ship."

"Oh," Henry accepted the answer, going back to the task at hand.

Hook simply couldn't get over the toddler that stood in front of him, hands clutching the wheel and his tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration. He had had a soft spot for children for as long as he could remember. Something about their childlike wonder and pure innocence tugged at his heart so much he often found himself envying the little monsters. The way they could become friends with someone instantaneously, without judgement on past mistakes... Though, admittedly, how much baggage did a three year old have? Spilling his milk at breakfast? Staying up past bedtime? ... Hook longed for those days, for people to see him the way that Henry did. The toddler only cared that Hook was a ship captain and dressed cool. It mattered not to him that Hook had brutally murdered people for their goods, or stolen thousands in property, or had been responsible for his own brother's death. As long as Hook allowed Henry to play pirate, the child was happy.

"How long have you been sailing, Captain?" Hook was brought out of his thoughts by yet another of the boy's questions.

"Probably since I was about your age. Me dad owned a ship. It was how he made his living; he was a fisherman. Me and my..." he trailed off for a moment. Even after all this time, it would always hurt to talk about Liam. He cleared his throat, "Me and my brother would help him out from time to time. We used to spend months out on the sea, just us men."

Henry grinned up at the pirate, "You have a brother? That's so cool!"

Hook smiled sadly down at the boy. He placed his good hand on the boy's head, ruffling the small tuft of hair there just a bit, "Had, Henry. He died some years ago."

Henry frowned, "Oh. I'm sorry, Captain."

"No worries, lad. It's all in the past. Now, how's about we set her for a north course?"


End file.
